


White Days

by alullabytoleaveby



Series: Emma 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alullabytoleaveby/pseuds/alullabytoleaveby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever it is that Dean wants to tell her, Emma isn’t expecting him to blurt out, “I think I’m gonna ask Cas to marry me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Days

Emma’s walking towards the bus at the end of the day when she notices him. Her dad. He’s leaning against the Impala with a studious, concentrated look on his face, scanning the crowd for her.

She can’t help but groan. She knows this can’t mean anything good. Dean doesn’t pick her up from school _ever_. Not anymore. When she was younger, Dean would come pick her up from school all the time and she loved it. She’d run towards him, barrel into his legs, and squeeze her tiny arms around him. She’d blabber on about her day as they’d head off to wherever Dean felt like taking her after school—a diner sometimes, for ice cream, the mall, even the park to feed ducks that one time (until the ducks got greedy and chased the both of them back to the car in their inability to understand that all the food was gone). And every Tuesday, he’d be standing outside the school, leaning against his big, black car and Emma always felt like the most special girl in the world. Until she started growing up, that is, and having your dad come pick you up was really more embarrassing than exciting. Now Dean only does it when _something’s_ going on. 

Emma has no idea what it could possibly be.

Krissy, who’s walking next to her, snickers once she figures out why Emma’s making a melodramatic fuss and dragging her feet. 

“Did you know he was gonna come pick you up?” She asks and Emma shakes her head.

“No,” she sighs. “We _talked_ about this.”

“Well I guess he wasn’t listening.”

“Clearly,” Emma grits out and shifts her backpack on her shoulders. The movement catches Dean’s eye and, finally spotting her, he grins widely and begins to wave his arms wildly. Emma flushes and buries her face in one of her hands.

“You should probably go over there before he starts calling out your name or something,” Krissy suggests and Emma has to agree. This could easily escalate into levels of humiliation that she never wants to experience. She’s a freshman. She’s still got four years to go at this school and she’d really like to get through them with as little ridicule as possible.

“See ya, Krissy,” Emma says with a resigned sigh and a distracted wave as she begins her march towards the Impala. Krissy calls out a goodbye after her.

“Emster!” Dean greets her, once she finally makes her way over to the car. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

“ _Dad_ ,” she whines. “What did I tell you?”

“I know, I know, you said you didn’t want your old man picking you up from school anymore. But I figured that embarrassing you is kinda my job.” He throws an arm around her shoulders and steers her towards the passenger side door. “C’mon, I thought we’d get some ice cream to make up for it. My treat." 

“Is Cas gonna meet us there?” She asks, climbing into the big, black car, tossing her backpack into the backseat. Dean clears his throat as he settles into the driver’s seat.

“Uh, actually it’s just gonna be us. We haven’t done anything, just the two of us in ages so I thought…” he trails off and Emma cocks her head to the side, curious. But she knows that pressing the issue won’t get her any answers. Dean’ll tell her when he’s ready, will force it out between bites of ice cream. So shrugging, nonchalant, Emma buckles her seatbelt.

“Cool,” she says and notices that Dean relaxes a tiny bit, leans back against the leather and releases the tension in his shoulders.

“Cool,” he says back, starts up the car with a roar and Metallica screeching through the speakers. Emma grimaces, but knows better at this point in her very short life than to actually voice her displeasure. The only person who successfully changed the music when Dean was driving—at least to Emma’s knowledge— is Cas and even then it was only the once. Dean had grumped the entire drive at having to put up with the “new wave hippy shit” that Cas decided it was easier to just let Dean get his way about this one thing.

Dean doesn’t say anything on the drive or while they’re waiting in line to get their treat—cookie dough for Dean and strawberry for Emma—or as they wander slowly back to the Impala, taking small bites and enjoying the last of the warm days as summer winds down into fall. Back at the car, Dean hops up on the hood and hauls Emma up after him. They eat their ice cream in what passes for comfortable silence as Dean squirms just slightly, clearly building up his courage.

Whatever it is that Dean wants to tell her, Emma isn’t expecting him to blurt out, “I think I’m gonna ask Cas to marry me.”

She blinks, her spoon still held aloft and halfway to her mouth, and her mouth screws down into a frown. Dean bites his lip and ducks his head. 

“I was wondering, uh, if you had any thoughts about that,” he mumbles and it shocks Emma out of her stupor.

“Okay,” she drawls. Her spoon finally makes it’s way to her mouth, a last ditch effort at giving her a couple more moments to process and come up with something to say.

It’s not that she’s _unhappy_ by the announcement—honestly, she’s not. It’s just not something that she ever thought about. Dean and Cas are practically attached at the hip. Emma just assumed that marriage was never in the cards for them. Her dad’s been a commitment-phobe her entire life and Cas has never expressed an opinion one way or the other about the subject of marriage. Emma just assumed that they were both happy with the way things are. 

Really, what’s throwing her here is that it’s Dean—her _dad_ —that’s the one who wants to change the status quo.

As Emma’s silence on the subject drags on, Dean’s body language goes from nervous to anxious to resigned. 

“I thought you liked Cas,” he breathes out, almost a pained whimper.

“I do,” Emma insists. “It’s just…weird.”

“Weird?” 

“Okay not weird. Weird is not the right word.” 

“Right. Okay.” Dean pushes his ice cream around in the paper cup for a moment before he sighs. Turning right towards her, he asks, “What _would_ be the right word for it?” Emma shrugs.

“I guess I always just figured that if you guys had wanted to get married, you would have done it by now.” 

“Oh,” Dean says. “You’re…right, I guess.” 

“It’s fine, though. Really. I doubt much’ll change—you two are already practically married as it is.” Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Yeah…we kinda are, aren’t we?”

“The way you two look at each other makes me want to puke sometimes,” Emma deadpans and Dean busts out laughing. And just like that, all the tension bleeds out of the situation. Emma finishes her ice cream before she leans back against the windshield, closes her eyes, and basks in the sun.

“So…you think he’ll say yes then?” Dean asks with a nervous chuckle. Emma peeks out at him with one eye.

“Dad, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Cas is stupidly in love with you. He’s kind of a sure thing.” Den grins but doesn’t respond. He sprawls out next to her on the car and Emma reaches for his hand, laces her fingers through his.

—

Later that week, when both Emma and Cas are curled up in the living room—Cas grading homework and Emma flipping through channels looking for something not completely terrible to watch—and Dean is in the kitchen doing the dishes, Emma tells Cas.

“He’s going to propose, you know.” Cas’ pen rips through the paper he’d been marking up.  

“What?” He stares at her, wide eyed.

“Dad. He’s going to ask you to marry him. I dunno when, though. Soon, I guess, if he decided it was time to tell me.” Cas doesn’t respond, but Emma’s not really expecting him to. 

“And I know how you are with surprises.” He hates them. “I thought I’d warn you, so you wouldn’t wind up doing something _stupid_ like saying ‘no’. Oh look, _Dr. Sexy_ reruns!” 

Cas doesn’t look, continues to stare at the paper in his hands for a few more moments, just blinking. Eventually he goes back to grading, but he’s smiling so wide now that when Dean joins them ten minutes later he quips, “Did Alfie finally get up the guts to write you a love note?” Cas rolls his eyes. 

“Samandriel does not write me love notes, Dean. Only you do. And poor ones, at that.”

“Hey!” Dean protests, “At least I try!”

“They don’t give out points for trying.” 

“Oh come on, like you could do better.”

“I definitely could. And words are not my forte, Dean. I teach _math_.” Dean laughs, leans forward and kisses Cas. Emma huffs and turns up the volume on _Dr. Sexy_. 

“Seriously, though, what’s got you so happy, huh?” Dean asks, kissing Cas again. Cas shakes his head, but he never stops grinning.

“Nothing,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. Just love you.” Dean smiles back at him and together, Emma thinks, they could light up the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all folks! I'm not saying I'll never play around in this verse again, but this was my last little snippet that I had planned, so I'm going to check it off as complete. Thank you all for reading, for commenting, and leaving kudos.


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